A twisted time capsule

''Instead of a tuna melt or a patty melt, why not a squirrel melt?" asks the smiling woman on the big-screen television.

As the camera pans to this Appalachian Martha Stewart placing slices of orange cheese on her gamey snack, a chorus of ''Noooo!s" erupts from Josh Randall and Peter Ledebur, followed by fits of laughter. They may be a bit squeamish about portions of their video collection, but they are more than happy to subject local audiences to oddities such as this homemaker with a taste for turning cute wild animals into lunch.

Randall and Ledebur are behind a new show called ''Strange Findings." What began as a one-time event to share some of their favorite -- and most disturbing -- television moments with friends has blossomed into a club sensation. The two men, who fervently collect videos and DVDs of everything from a rapping Mr. T (resplendent in gold chains and track shorts) to David Letterman's infamous 1987 interview with a platform shoe-wearing Crispin Glover, have tapped into the public's love of kitsch and irony. ''Strange Findings" is a twisted time capsule for anyone who ever played Pole Position or wasted a Saturday morning watching ''Hammerman."

''I think they really are magical in a way," Randall says of the long-forgotten video nuggets that he has salvaged from satellite-dish heaven. ''They sort of straddle this weird place between reality and fantasy. They make you feel like 'Did this really happen?' "

Yes, evidently these things did happen, and the embarrassing proof is contained in the one-hour show. Corey Haim took to the airwaves and urged naive young girls to call his 900 number, Snoop Dogg appeared on the short-lived ''Donnie and Marie" talk show, and the rock band Kiss once sold makeup kits for boys called Kiss Your Face.

Earlier this year, Randall and Ledebur decided to put together ''Strange Findings" as a way to show their friends some of their favorite bizarre clips. In March, they booked a Thursday night at ZuZu! to premiere the show. Word of ''Strange Findings" quickly spread, and the club sold out long before the show started.

''The irony was that none of our friends could get in because we sold out the night so early," Randall says. ''We're hoping they can get in next time."

''I think we may have hurt business at the bar," adds Ledebur. ''Every time I turned around, people were just staring at the screen."

For those who couldn't get into the ZuZu! show, ''Strange Findings" comes to the Enormous Room on Monday night. In June, the program will screen at the Independent in Somerville.

Even the two-minute Internet trailer for the show, featuring a lip-synching Corey Feldman, was a hit. Randall put the trailer on his website, which is hosted by the Internet server of the company he works for. So many people went to the site and downloaded the trailer that his company's server crashed.

''Thousands of people were coming and getting served these 40 megabyte movie files," he says. ''So there's definitely an audience out there. I think we've definitely captured something that people want to see."

Why people want to see it is a different story. Jake Trussell, who DJs at the Enormous Room under the name DJ C and is bringing ''Strange Findings" to the club next week, said it's not just the comic value of the clips, but the nostalgia of sharing these bewildering moments with a roomful of semi-drunken peers that people find appealing.

''I don't know how [Randall] does it, but he manages to find this obscure footage, often from the '70s and '80s that seems strangely familiar," says Trussell. ''It gives me the feeling that either something deep in my psyche is trying to suppress the memory of having seen it, or I've never actually seen it, but it's touching on some kind of era-specific media archetype."

Randall and Ledebur, who have been friends for nearly 15 years, say they never planned to make their collections public. Ledebur, 37, started his collection simply by keeping a tape in his VCR and his finger near the record button on his remote control. From the late 1980s through the mid-1990s, he kept a careful watch on cable access and late-night television, amassing hours of cringe-worthy footage. He also built his collection by trading with others, until he found himself with several boxes of taped treasures, such as a young Paula Abdul starring in a 1978 made-for-TV musical called ''Junior High."

He stopped collecting and trading 10 years ago when the hobby turned into an obsession and began overtaking his life, but he hung onto his tapes. When he rediscovered them last year, he was amazed at what he had amassed.

''I couldn't believe how weird some of this stuff was," says Ledebur. ''I was really insane about music, and I was collecting a lot of music. And it was the same with videos. If I was home, I was ready to record."

Randall, 34, who handles the technical side of ''Strange Findings," started converting Ledebur's tapes into digital files on his computer, winding up with a terabyte of material. He then began editing together everything from a 1990s potty training video to a 1970s commercial for a children's game called Ball Buster. Looking around his Harvard Square apartment, which is neatly filled with toy robots, Atari gaming systems from the 1980s, and Pac Man throw pillows, it's clear that he's a connoisseur of electronic pop culture.

''I'm constantly trying to introduce people to video or audio that moves me in one way or another," Randall says. ''Now, instead of combing the Web for an hour and e-mailing my friends some great clip I found from Japan, I can focus all my energies on one project."

Randall has also been experimenting with manipulating the videos in a live music setting. Under the name Robot Kid, he's been VJing in clubs. While a DJ spins, Randall tinkers with the clips from his laptop, which are then projected onto a screen. The effect is similar to turning up the stereo, turning down the volume on the TV, and channel surfing through ''The Twilight Zone."

While the primary entertainment value of ''Strange Findings" is derived from laughing at the bad hair or embarrassing actions of individuals who were desperate for television attention, Randall confesses that for him, the show goes a bit deeper than kitsch.

''I'm also drawn to the sincerity of some of the clips, like Mr. T, Slim Goodbody, or the Christian Scientist puppeteer," he says. ''They are all trying their best to educate and entertain kids, yet their delivery is so off-putting and foreign that you have to wonder if they ever realized that they might be freaking out kids rather than enlightening them."

Christopher Muther can be reached at muther@globe.com